On days like these I can't help but relive that day: the drive to the hospital, the music we listened to at home and in the car, that same song over and over again... The waiting in that weird, impersonal hospital room, putting on the surgical gown, all those fascinating preparations for surgery that you have no idea of when you don't regularly watch stuff like ER... Seeing the gynaecologist holding a baby above your head, only for a few seconds... And then all that happened in the three years after that moment.

Will it always be this way on December 13? Will I always keep remembering all those moments so ordinary, yet in a strange way so full of meaning? Parking the car at the small parking lot near the hospital, meeting our nurse, the view from the room, the large serving trays with the unsavoury meals... Will I always keep thinking about stuff such as surgery gowns and uncomfortable hospital beds with a smile? Or have I forgotten about most of those details by the time you've grown up, Rosa?